


#non provincia mea

by noahfronsenburg



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Trans Character, Dissociation, Exposition, Gen, Patch 4.5: A Requiem For Heroes Spoilers, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfronsenburg/pseuds/noahfronsenburg
Summary: "Before Operation Archon, the XIVth had been carrying out investigations into the shards of Dalamud.”(“For all the good it did us,” he scowled, muttering under his breath.)





	#non provincia mea

**Author's Note:**

> [id: gif of lestrade from sherlock, in the scene wherein he said "not my division", only he's had a roman legionairre's helmet and scarf photoshopped onto his head, an SPQR banner put next to him, and is holding an amphora. the caption reads in flashing black outlined white text, #NON PROVINCIA MEA]/end id

The man who preferred to be called Shadowhunter had probably the best grasp of Eorzean politics of any non-Eorzean alive, and if there was one thing he had learned in nearly twenty years of firsthand experience of Eorzean politics, it was that everything that happened in Eorzea was, _without fail_ , absolute horseshit. It was always stupid, always a pain in the arse. Always incomprehensible.

Nothing ever made sense in Eorzea.

Which was why, when the question was raised as to if there was any potential danger to be borne against the encroaching Garlean army from any remnants of the Calamity, he was remarkably not disturbed by the ease which Alphinaud replied: “Bahamut is almost _certainly_ dead this time.”

After the silence grew thin and deeply confused, their thaumaturge, hesitant, said: “You sound less secure in that than I’d like.”

“I should clarify,” Alphinaud quickly continued, “I _was_ there when the Warrior of Light made sure of the Dawn Wyrm’s demise. However, it is the nature of primals that they are never as securely removed from this star as we should hope. Given that his mate Tiamat remains locked in Azys Lla, there is always the chance that some horrific confluence of aether could potentially herald his return.” Alphinaud frowned. “But I certainly hope not, as the last round with him was, I shall be honest, _not_ in my favorite experiences.”

“Why were _you_ there?” Their lancer asked, voice clouded in confusion. “Alphinaud, you’re hardly an accomplished combat specialist, for all you can hold your own in a melee.”

Alphinaud sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose I had best start at the beginning, pray forgive me. Before Operation Archon, the XIVth had been carrying out investigations into the shards of Dalamud, including at Castrum Occidens. They had little luck with it—”

(“For all the good it did us,” he scowled, muttering under his breath, and pulled over the amphora of garum that was sitting next to the fire. They all pretended not to hear him.)

Alphinaud hesitated, glanced to him, while he pretended to be resolutely invested in getting the amphora to unclog so he could finish his dinner, “But after the events of five years ago, the Scions—with my sister’s assitance—were able to gain access to the first of these shards of Dalamud, initially in order to prevent Bahamut from rising again. In the course of Alisaie’s exploration, the Warrior of Light discovered that Bahamut was being kept alive via the neurolinks within the coils themselves.”

The explanation which followed was, at best, convoluted, and at worst, incomprehensible. He half-listened with at least some intent to the narrative, but it wasn’t until well more than halfway through, when Alphinaud said “Nael deus Darnus,” that he stopped only _pretending_ to be paying attention, looked up.

“Nael deus Darnus,” Alphinaud repeated, “Made herself _quite_ clear on the nature of her choices about Dalamud when questioned on it. She, and no other, no primal influence, dropped the moon.”

“ _She_?” said the thaumaturge, at the same moment as Shadowhunter gathered himself together and spoke, “ _Deus?_ ”

Alphinaud, surprised, glanced between them. “I believe the _deus_ was an addition due to her having been tempered by Bahamut at the time of her meeting with Alisaie. My understanding, from her descriptions, is that by the time of their meeting Nael was a ten fulm tall draconic woman who could fly and was covered in golden scales. That seemed to be the body she had asked for in return for her loyal service, so I can only assume that the deus was gifted as well.”

“I thought Nael was a man,” the thaumaturge said. Looked to Shadowhunter, who immediately went back to looking busy with the garum, shoving his fingers into the amphora like he had no idea why he was being looked at. But, despite that, he could not stop himself—Nael had died herself, and he would not stand to see her legacy be treated in the way her life was.

“No,” he and Alphinaud said simultaneously. He looked up immediately to stare at the younger man, found Alphinaud staring back at him—their expressions, no doubt, a mirror of bemusement.

“How did _you_ come to learn of that?” Alphinaud sounded somewhat baffled, blinking at him in surprise. For a moment, the false front slipped, and he added, “I thought you two had little love lost.”

Shadowhunter, two fingers covered in garum shoved in his mouth to avoid having to give a proper answer (and also because he was still hungry), shrugged. “Fairly obvious.” It was muffled. Mostly by the garum. “How did _you_ come to learn of it?” Alphinaud had not even yet been _in_ Eorzea when the White Raven still lived.

“From Nael’s preferred form being a ten fulm tall dragon woman, it is a fairly simple deduction to make.”

He scooped out more garum. Alphinaud was giving him a look that read as _why will you not eat that with a spoon._ He nodded. “Good for her. She deserved to be happy.” Even if happy was being...a dragon? He could not see the appeal, but he was not Nael. If it worked for her, he was not about to knock it.

“Regardless,” Alphinaud cleared his throat, continued, “Nael having lived, albeit in thralldom and in her preferred form, was the least of our troubles, if I am to be totally honest with you. Much as I longed to find my grandfather within, as Alisaie did as well, he had not found his happiness as Nael had.”

As Alphinaud finished explaining the events of the Final Coil, he listened more intently. The events of the Calamity, and Louisoix’s role in it especially, haunted him, even a decade on. His failure to do anything of proper substance, his inability to snap the metaphorical lead, still galled. The struggle to put down the Dawn Wyrm—for good—just made him increasingly glad that it had been Alisaie Leveilleur who had figured out the secrets of the Coils and _not him_.

When Alphinaud was done and their party disbanded, he snorted under his breath, wiped his hands clean. There were so, _so_ many reasons he wanted Eorzea’s problems to stay far away from him. He had gone as far as possible from Aldenard, and yet, here it was, knocking once more on his door.

At least _this_ time it was not _his_ damn province.

**Author's Note:**

> https://noahfronsenburg.carrd.co


End file.
